


Sans's Answer.

by anonemones



Series: Kageroutale [2]
Category: Kagerou Project, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Depression, Gen, I CAN'T THINK OF ANY OTHER TAGS, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Murder, Phone Calls & Telephones, Sad, Sans-centric, Texting, they're the only relevant characters in this addition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 08:53:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10082327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonemones/pseuds/anonemones
Summary: By getting just a little closer to you, I think I could find it outJust so these days would never ever have to end, without a doubt;Ringing in a tone that slowly died and never will restart againAnd all at once, I know everything is gone.





	

_What’s it like to lose everything? To be left alone?_

Sans is frozen in place, his feet buried in snow as his eyes focus on nothing, not even on what lay ahead of him. Though the night is quiet, his mind is a roaring beast, screaming obscenities and repeating over and over, _no, this can’t be happening, this isn’t real, I’m dreaming, this is just a nightmare this isn’t real it can’t be it_ can’t—

Chara cries in front of him, face buried in their hands, back facing him. They don’t know he’s there—not yet. He doesn’t blame them, really.

Not when a vibrant red scarf with a single Echo flower stitched into its fabric can be seen lying next to the riverbed.

Sans steps forward, and the other looks up, shocked, sniffling. They look guilty.

He clenches his fists, fighting the urge to throw them into the water alongside his dead friend. He takes another step forward, reaches out—

— _Well,_ anyone _can be a good person, if they just try_ —

…He can’t do it.

… _Why_?

He grips the front of his shirt and disappears.

 _What’s it like_ , he remembers wondering, _to lose everything?_

 _This_ , a familiar voice murmurs in the back of his mind, _is what it’s like._

 

_This is pointless._

_Splash…splash…_

Sans makes his way through Waterfall, a couple years earlier, his head hanging low and hands buried in his pockets. His pants are soaked with how high the water is, having flooded earlier that day. _But of_ course _it floods today_ , he thinks, bitterly to himself. _Why_ wouldn’t _it flood on the day I have an interview for a job?_

Granted, the job isn’t anything he’s excited about. An internship for the King; something about “taking occupation as the next judge,” or whatever. People he’s talked to about it keep saying how it’s such an honor and he should be “so proud of himself,” but really, Sans doesn’t care. It’s just a job that’ll pay the bills—why put so much importance into a silly title like “judge,” anyway?

 _But then again, when do people_ not _put importance in places it doesn’t belong? Blind idiots…_

As Sans’s thoughts spiral downward, pulling him deeper and deeper into his own world full of melancholic frustration, he startles to a stop when something clatters to the ground just around the corner.

_Clang!_

“Shit—”

_What the…?_

Sans peeks around the bend, curiosity written all over his features.

Standing dead center in the middle of the next room is a skeleton, clad in a brilliant red scarf adorning a single Echo flower He kneels on the ground, oblivious of anyone else who might or might not be in the area.

His mouth is twisted into a frown, hands fumbling with a wrench and other tools strewn about. A telescope, battered and in desperate need of repair, rests in front of him, its eye cracked and scope crooked and rusted.

Sans watches the taller skeleton drop the wrench again, becoming more and more flustered the more he fumbles with it. He sighs, stepping forward. _Good God, this is sad…_

“Hey,” he says, waving, “need any help?”

The other skeleton yelps, jumping to his feet in an instant. He spins on his heels, looking awfully pale. “A-Ah! I’m sorry…is this yours?” he asks. “I-I didn’t mean t-to start messing with it, I just—I noticed it was broken and I wanted to fix it, but—I’m not very good at handyman work, so I dunno what to do, and—”

“Hey, pal, _relax_.” Sans holds up his hands, rolling his eyes. Though, his mouth tugs up into an amused grin, and he walks forward, taking the wrench from the other. “It’s not mine. Though, I could help ya fix it, if you don’t mind.”

The other skeleton gasps. He goes starry-eyed, bouncing on his heels. “Really? You _can_?” And then, as he says this, he does something Sans doesn’t expect: he’s suddenly hugged, almost lifted from the ground with the other’s strength. _What is_ with _this guy?_ “That’s so nice of you! Thank you, stranger!”

“It’s Sans. And, uh—don’t mention it?” He frowns, wiggling out of the other’s grip. He studies the telescope for a moment, humming to himself. He taps on the rusted metal and says, “I’ll have to take this home with me to really fix it up…I doubt you’ve got any kinda metal with you, do ya, um…?”

“Papyrus.” Papyrus smiles, then frowns, thinking. “And, uh, no. I don’t.”

“Whelp. Home it is, then.” Sans sets down the wrench, snapping his fingers. The telescope disappears the moment he does, leaving no trace that it was there in the first place besides small indentations in the soil.

When it vanishes, Papyrus gasps, eyes snapping to Sans. “How’d you do that?” he asks, awestruck. Oddly, his eyes draw to Sans’s chest, almost magnetically, his gaze seeing straight through the smaller skeleton.

Sans clears his throat and takes a step back, shrugging. “It’s just magic my dad taught me, once,” he says, wincing at the mention of his father. _Way to bring up the guy you haven’t seen since you were a babe, Sans. Good job._ “A-Anyway, it…doesn’t really matter. I’ll get it back in working shape within a few days.”

“Okay!” Papyrus smiles, nodding, shaking his surprise away in the process.

Sans, meanwhile, leans back on his heels, narrowing his eyes. “Why do you want it to be fixed up so badly, again?” he asks, shoving his hands back into his pockets.

Papyrus’s smile turns mischievous. “Oh,” he says, waving a hand in the air, “just because.”

 _Okay…weird…_ “Alright.” Sans turns to leave, sighing, “Whelp, I should get going. I got places to be, so—a”

“ _Wait_!”

A hand grips his wrist, and he jolts to a halt, Sans glaring at the taller skeleton. Papyrus’s eyelights are wild, nervous, the skeleton wringing his hands when he lets the other go. “S-Sorry,” he mumbles, pulling out his phone, “I just—can I have your number?”

“My number?” Sans repeats. “… _Why_?”

“So I can call you about the telescope!”

“Oh.” Sans sighs, pulling out his phone. “Yeah, I guess you’d need that…here you go.”

He swipes through a couple of apps before reaching his phone number and hands his phone to Papyrus, who punches the numbers into his contact list. That done, Papyrus gives him his phone back, beaming down at him. “Thanks! I’ll text you later!”

“Alright…” Sans gives the other an odd look, stuffing his phone back in his pocket. Turning his back to Papyrus, he waves. “See ya around, I guess.”

“See you!” He hears Papyrus call after him, and Sans smiles at how excited he sounds.

He walks away, but even when he’s halfway through Hotland, course set to the Capitol, he’s still smiling. And that makes more of a difference than one might think.

 

PAPYRUS sent you message!

PAPYRUS: SANS!!! HAVE YOU FIXED THE TELESCOPE YET??

PAPYRUS: ALSO SORRY FOR BOTHERING YOU I DON’T KNOW IF NOW IS A GOOD TIME OR ANYTHING…I JUST WANTED TO CHECK IN!!

PAPYRUS: ARE YOU OKAY BY THE WAY?? YOU SEEMED GRUMPY EARLIER. :( IF NOT, I THINK YOU’RE REALLY GREAT!!

PAPYRUS: Sans I see you reading these. Please answer.

sans: im in the middle of a job interview ;;

PAPYRUS: AH!! I SEE!! SORRY FOR DISTURBING YOU. GOOD LUCK!!

PAPYRUS: ALSO I’M INFORMING YOU NOW THAT I’M COMING OVER LATER TO VISIT!! JUST A FAIR WARNING.

sans: thanks i guess.

sans: wait what how do you know where i live.

PAPYRUS: …Bye.

sans: ?????????????

sans: no wait get back here and answer my question

sans: how do you know where i live??

sans: i see you reading these dammit.

sans: pAPYRUS ANSWER ME

PAPYRUS: SEE YOU LATER!!!

sans: u g h.

 

“Are you mad at me?”

It’s much later in the day now; the Underground dark, fabricated stars shining above. Papyrus stands in Sans’s front door, fidgeting at the other’s glare. He twists his scarf in his hands, unable to meet the skeleton’s eyes, looking exactly like a child who’s been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to.

Sans crosses his arms over his chest, frowning. “ _Yes_ ,” he says, “though considering I still got that job I was interviewed for, I guess I’m not _pissed_ , so be happy about that.”

“You got the job? I’m so happy for you!”

“ _You_ almost blew my chances of getting that job. Friendly reminder.”

Papyrus winces, frowning. “…Right.”

Sans studies him, looking him up and down, before sighing, stepping out of the way. “It’s set up in the backyard. Come on.”

Papyrus gasps, grinning so hard it hurts. He rushes inside, closing the door behind him as Sans leads him to the backyard.

“Thank you for doing this for me,” he says, looking genuine. “I wouldn’t have been able to fix it if it weren’t for your kindness!”

Sans shrugs. “Eh, well, y’know how it is. Guys like me can _scope_ out a solution when we need to.” Sans grins, snorting at the pun.

Papyrus, however, groans. “Sans, that was terrible!” he says, huffing. “Besides, you don’t ‘scope’ out solutions—you ‘ _tele_ ’ them to others!”

Sans’s grin widens. “Good one.”

“Of course it was good! _I_ know what quality jokes are.” Papyrus rolls his eyes, though it’s obvious by the smile playing on his face that he’s enjoying the playful banter.

They walk outside, and, sitting on the back porch, is the telescope. It’s not in perfect condition; some of it is still rusted, and the eye is still cracked, but it stands just fine and reflects the ceiling of Mt. Ebott just fine.

Papyrus gasps at the sight of it, covering his mouth to keep from squealing. “It looks so shiny!” He rushes over to it, looking into it. “ _And_ you can see the sky now!”

“Roof,” Sans reminds, but Papyrus ignores him.

“Thank you, Sans!”

Sans grunts as he’s pulled into a hug, but this time he doesn’t bother pushing the other away, having the nagging feeling that it won’t do him any good anyway. He hugs him back, sighing. “Yeah, sure,” he says, “no prob.”

“ _I_ have to do something for _you_ now!” Papyrus declares, letting him go. He’s beaming again, and his smile shines brighter than anything else. It’s refreshing to see, and Sans smiles back, finding it to be contagious. “Do you need any help with anything? Something that needs to be fixed?”

Sans shakes his head, holding up his hands again, “Nah, I don’t need anything. I’m good, really.”

“Are you sure? Because I could always—”

“Really, Papyrus. I’m fine. I don’t need any help—or anything _else_ , for that matter.” Sans looks away, glaring at his shoes. “I’m fine with the way things are, thanks.”

They fall silent, Sans staring at his sneakers and Papyrus looking down at him, that troubled, clouded look on his face again.

Suddenly, Sans feels a weight on his shoulders, blinking away his shock. Papyrus’s scarf wraps around him, hanging heavy on his shoulders and piling up on the wood on either side of him. _Damn, this thing’s long…_

“Please don’t be sad.” Papyrus smiles at him, chuckling. “People really care about you, Sans! It’d be a shame to see you so miserable all the time…or are you _usually_ miserable?”

Sans can do nothing but stare, dumbstruck, at the other, gripping the front of the scarf. The Echo flower sewn into it glows and murmurs, repeating Papyrus’s next words after he’s said them:

“Well, even if you are miserable, don’t worry—I’m here.”

 

PAPYRUS sent you a message!

PAPYRUS: SANS!!! I FOUND !!! A STAR CHART !!

Sans: ok?? and?

PAPYRUS: DO YOU WANT IT?? YOU LIKE STARS, DON’T YOU? PLUS, THE TELESCOPES AT YOUR HOUSE, SO WHY NOT GIVE IT TO YOU!

Sans: pap, we don’t have actual stars down here…

PAPYRUS: THEN I’LL JUST SEND YOU THE MAP!! THAT WAY, YOU CAN TAPE IT TO YOUR CEILING AND ALWAYS SEE THE STARS AT NIGHT!!

Sans: pfft

Sans: you’re a real gem, pap.

Sans: thanks

PAPYRUS: OF COURSE!!!

PAPYRUS: ALSO, I JUST NOTICED!! TODAY MAKES TWO YEARS AFTER WE FIRST MET!! COOL, HUH?

Sans: you seriously remember…the day we first met

PAPYRUS: HOW COULD I FORGET??

Sans: you’re insane.

Sans: are you trynna say you wanna do somethin’ special for it?

Sans: was that knock at my door you?

PAPYRUS: …Maybe.

Sans: pap. pap no i have a guest over.

Sans: paPYRUS I SEE YOU OUTSIDE MY WINDOW WTH

PAPYRUS: YOUR DOOR IS LOCKED!!

Sans: tHEN USE THE KEY DON’T JUST STARE AT ME

Sans: AND STOP WAVING AT AL YOU’RE SCARIN HER

PAPYRUS: I CAN’T FIND THE KEY???

PAPYRUS: OH!! IS THAT WHY SHE’S POINTING AT ME?

Sans: uGH YOU’RE INSUFFERABLE.

PAPYRUS: :((

 

Sans’s phone rings right as he’s about to leave for work.

He has one foot out the door, and he doesn’t even realize it’s not on him until he hears it in the kitchen, going haywire just to grab his attention. Sans glances in its direction, back to the snow outside, before groaning and walking back in its direction.

Phone vibrating on the counter, he picks it up, looking at the number.

His soul sinks.

_Papyrus…?_

_Click_! “Hello?”

The voice on the other end is grainy and filled with static. A recording—and yet, as the words come through, Sans feels like he’s been cut open with a knife.

“Hello? Sans, are you there…? Maybe not. I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t pick up. I’m a pretty bad friend…do you hate me? Or maybe just hurt. I dunno, I hope not. You don’t _deserve_ to hurt.”

“…My mom died today.”

 _Two weeks ago_ , Sans notes, frowning. “C’mon, Pap,” he murmurs, “get to the point.”

“I-I don’t know why, but—but she did. And…and ever since, Dad’s been acting really weird, and I think he’s—Sans, I think he’s going to hurt someone, and—he won’t let me leave the house, or talk to anyone, and I just—I don’t know what to _do_ , Sans.

“Everyone I love is hurting, and I…I can’t really feel anything anymore. I can’t _handle_ it anymore—it’s like, like I’ve gone numb. You know?” _All too well_. “…Sans, I’m really sorry. I’m sorry if, if you ever get this, because—because—

“If…if you get this, it means I’m already gone.”

The room feels a lot colder than it did a second ago, “ _What_?”

“And I’m sorry. I just can’t do this anymore.” The recording pauses for a moment, before Papyrus asks something odd.

“Do you know what it’s like, Sans? What it’s like to lose everything? To be left all alone, trying to find all the answers by yourself? _I_ know what it’s like. And this, this _emptiness_ —that’s what it’s like.

“But I know what the answer is now. So don’t worry, and don’t be upset that I’m gone, okay? I’m going to fix this. _All_ of this.

“Goodbye.”

_Click!_

The line goes dead.

Sans runs out the door, his heart racing. _Don’t be too late_ , he thinks, _don’t be too late…_ don’t _be too late…_

 

He’s too late.

“Papyrus…Papyrus, _no_ …”

He reappears in his house, mumbling under his breath. He’s a broken record, that name repeating over and over in his mind, tumbling from his mouth, his heart screaming no, no, _no_.

“Papyrus, _please_ …”

Tears fill his eyes, his throat constricts. But he doesn’t allow them to fall. Not yet.

Sans’s knees shake beneath him, the skeleton struggling to stand. Afraid of crumbling underneath the weight crushing his shoulders and afraid of falling too far and never getting back up, he stumbles to the back door, trying to think of something— _anything_ —that’d make this go away.

All he knows is, he can’t be _here_ , not right now. Not when his life’s been turned upside down like this.

He pulls the backdoor open, wheezing. It’s becoming difficult to breathe; a panic attack, almost, though not quite. Hand still clamped over his soul, he forces himself to breathe, closing the door behind him and leaning against it—

— _Oh, God, make it stop just make it stop_ —

His gaze falls on the telescope.

Something in his mind shatters. A searing pain floods his chest, and finally—blissfully—he begins to cry, collapsing to the ground. He pulls his knees to his chest and hides his face, his quiet sobs unheard as the uproar inside him takes hold and locks him in a painful, cruel reality.

_Please come back…please…_

_This wasn’t the answer you were supposed to find._

 

[ROUTE =)]

_What’s it like to lose everything? To be left alone?_

Sans is frozen in place, his feet buried in snow as his eyes focus on nothing, not even on what lay ahead of him. Though the night is quiet, his mind is a roaring beast, screaming obscenities and repeating over and over, _no, this can’t be happening, this isn’t real, I’m dreaming, this is just a nightmare this isn’t real it can’t be it_ can’t—

Chara cries in front of him, face buried in their hands, back facing him. They don’t know he’s there—not yet. He doesn’t blame them, really.

Not when a vibrant red scarf with a single Echo flower stitched into its fabric can be seen lying next to the riverbed.

Sans steps forward, and the other looks up, shocked, sniffling. They look guilty.

He clenches his fists, fighting the urge to throw them into the water alongside his dead friend. He takes another step forward, reaches out—

“Sans, I—”

 

CHARA – LV1

0/20 HP

* Pathological liar. They let HIM die.

Not like anyone will miss them, anyway.

 

Chara’s eyes blow wide, blood trickling from their mouth. A single bone shoots from the ground and through their chest, tip bloodied and red.

“S…San…s…?”

Sans says nothing; gaze void of any emotion. Silently, he lets his hand fall, and the bone vanishes.

He stands there and watches as they fall, eyes rolling into the back of their head. Their soul shatters before they hit the ground.

Sans’s eyes never leave them. _Good riddance._

He steps over their body and over to the river, picking up Papyrus’s scarf and wrapping it around himself. He looks back once at the dead body behind him before vanishing—but right before he does, one might be able to catch the tears that begin to fall down his cheeks, if anyone had been around at all.

And considering the only eyes that witness this are Chara’s, the likelihood of this isn’t much to go by.


End file.
